The Flowers in the Field
by BWritesAlot
Summary: Beth and Daryl are stuck together by chance. Daryl can't help, but to see Beth's light. She's like a magnet drawing him in and no matter how much he tries he can't seem to resist her. Beth can feel the pull between them, and it's electric.


I could feel him breathing down my neck as his taut body was wrapped around mine, poised to kill with his crossbow. My hand on my hip where my knife was resting. Fear was prominent in my body, it buzzed with it.

Thunder clapped loudly and rain poured down hard and loud, but it wasn't loud enough to conceal the growling and teeth clashing of walkers. We were surrounded by herd in a trunk of a car that wouldn't close shut, the only thing keeping it down was Daryl's hand on the lever. The car would rattle and shake as mindless walkers hit the car in search of their next meal.

Daryl's eyes burned into mine sharply as the storm intensified. It could of been what felt like days before the storm let out and the storm scattered all of the walkers.

Daryl peeked his eyes out of the slight crack of the trunk in search of any threat left remaining. He pushed the top

of the trunk open to reveal the blinding sun. I blinked a few time to try to adjust my eyes from the dark trunk.

"Hurry up Greene, you're wasting daylight with your dawdling." Daryl was already out of the trunk, crossbow on his shoulder scanning for anything useful before settling on parts of tires.

I quickly climbed out of the trunk. The feeling of my muscles finally stretching was almost euphoric. I joined Daryl in the search for anything, but came up short. I went to check the driver's side of the car. Along the side of the door a rotted walker laid. I attempted to move it when it's bony hand wrapped around my ankle. I screamed startled and repeatedly kicked it head as it tried to take a bite out of me. It feel limp as a final blow of my free foot splattered its brains all over my pants up to my knee.

Daryl was standing behind me, breathless.

"What the hell were ya thinking, Beth?" His crossbow was loaded and aimed at the walker.

"What do you mean, Daryl? I was doing as you said!"

"No, being a fool was what ya were doing! Ya didn't think to see if it was still walking?"

"It looked dead!" I petulantly murmured towards the man that towered over me and my small frame.

"I ain't gonna be responsible when ya get chomped on cause ya acting stupid," He sighed "Get up there ain't nothing here, gotta keep moving."

Feeling like a scolded child, stood up. We walked for miles and miles, my calves were burning and my stomach burned with hunger. Looking up at Daryl, he was focused with his crossbow armed and ready. Every now and then I would step on a stick and he would take his eyes off where he was focused and look back at me.

It had been about two weeks since the fall of the prison. Daddy's death was an ankle weight that burdened me, just thinking about it made me want to cry and give up. We don't know where any of the group is or if there even alive. I prayed Maggie survived. I thought we had a home there at the prison. I guess not.

I could feel a tear slip down my cheek. I let it run down my face to the ground. I had to be strong.

The wind began to kick up with a chill. Each day out here marked a day closer to winter. Daryl and I needed a place to hole up for the winter.

Daryl suddenly stopped walking causing me to hit my face on the hard muscles in his back, earning an annoyed glance from him. I looked around his body to see a little deserted shack.

It had was quite small and had minimal windows. The little shack was placed along a fairly large stream behind and to the side of it and one side large rocks laid leaving only one part of it defenseless, but it could easily be fixed. It was concealed from any human threat from the trees. This place was just too good to be true after the prison.

Daryl silently motioned for me to pull my knife out and stand behind him. He kicked the door open to reveal the interior of the place. It had a little kitchen and one bedroom, obviously a hunting house or what not, Daddy used to have one just like it.

"Well looks like we found a little place to hole up for a few days." Daryl said before heading out to secure the front of the shack with some fishing wire and the car parts as a early detection system for walkers.

I decided to walk around the house to see if I could find anything useful. As I turned the corner of the back of the house I noticed to what looked like a cellar door. All that held the doors closed was a rusted chain. I turned to look at Daryl who was still setting up the front, I turned back toward the door deciding not to bother him.

I pulled experimentally on the chain and it unexpectedly gave in easy. I cautiously walked down the few steps, out of habit I turned on the emergency light by flipping the switch. The buzz of the generator began, light filled the room to fill months worth of food and supplies. I picked up a slightly rusted can of corn. I rolled the can in my hands with it's reassuring weight.

A growl from behind me startled me causing me to throw the can of corn into the air with a loud clanking noise, which knocked over many cans as it hit one of the shelves. The walker was old and bony, it had clearly been locked down here for a while. The walker's bony hand reached out for me its skin hanging where its wrist and hand hand connected.

I reacted too late and it was closer to me than I should let it. My hand reached down for my knife, patting the area. Nothing was there, I began to panic. I tried my other hip finding the knife, plunging into the decaying skull. The skin gave way when I pulled my knife out of it's temple and fell on my hand causing me to squeal. It left my hand entirely covered in brown, coagulated blood, it smelt horrid.

I would never get used to it, seeing this much death.

"Beth! Where are you?" Daryl's voice boomed from above me.

I ran up the stairs to tell Daryl what I had found. "Daryl, you'll never guess what I found!" I excitedly made my way into the shack.

"What? Where have you.." He trailed off. "What happened to your hand?" His eyes looked slightly panicked.

"Oh nothing, it was just a walker.."

"Beth, what do you mean just a walker? Were you bit?"

"Oh no no, I'm fine. I promise." Daryl visibly relaxed with relief.

"There's a bunker under the house, filled with food." I breathed out.

Daryl didn't reply, he simply strutted past me through the soft grass to the side of the house.

He turned back to me with a pleased expression, no smile. "Well Greene, looks like we hit the jackpot."

I smiled a warm feeling blooming in my chest that could only be identified as pride.

Maybe something good would come out of this house, just maybe.


End file.
